My spine surgery journey: from preparation to recovery

[bellbird]

Hi Trev, take good care of bellbird, ok? She's super important, so you need to do a good job!

Awwwwe!! :hug::hug:

Wow 225 mg Venlafaxine, that would render me so hyper I'd literally be crawling the walls.

Ahah yeah. + 150 mg at midday, so I'm on 375 mg daily. Pretty sure that's the maximum daily dose.

When I went inpatient last year, I was on 75 mg. They ramped it up pretty swiftly during my 3 week stay; dosage increases every few days.

It has been really significant in helping my anxiety and depression, but only in combination with taking mirtazapine at nights; the combination known as California rocket fuel. A looooot of serotonin, but my body seems to tolerate it.

I'm curious tho, why can't you have your parents know what your meds are for

It ties in with the reason behind starting this thread; my absolute fear of my parents knowing about my mental illnesses which traces back to repeated invalidations of my emotions/my expressions of emotions throughout my childhood (finally worked out the link with new T just before leaving for surgery). Have a lot to work on there, but family knowing about my mental illnesses is not an option for me and a boundary for myself that I don't budge on.

I can't even close my eyes and rest while my family are around; even the thought makes me feel physically ill. Yawning around them, too. It's a very complex and deep-rooted issue.

 

[bellbird]

I'm in a mental battle with my pain at the moment.
Last night while I was asleep, I must have rolled over the wrong way. I woke in the most excruciating pain; a feeling like my internal organs had been ripped in half.

I had similar at one stage in hospital, and spoke to my surgeon about it then. It isn't pathological. It's just a symptom of the newly healing nerves and tissues being strained. But f*ck me, it hurts.

I'm determined to not take a sevredol. I haven't had any since the day before I left hospital. And I'm not going to put my digestive tract through that again.
I'm no longer taking laxol, and am only on Kiwi crush for laxatives, though I aim to wean of that in a number of days. Now that I can include dietary fibre again.

So we're focusing a lot of slow deep breaths today. Hot water bottles. The support of Trev. And keeping up with my paracetamol, gabapentin, and celecoxib as pain relief.

A couple of days after I got home, I entered all my new meds into my med reminder app. It has been a massive help. One less thing to have to actively think about. I think I'm taking about 25 pills total daily at the moment.

I can now lie flat on my back, which is pretty cool. I hadn't been able to do that since my surgery; my left side where my incision is was too tender without a pillow underneath. But being fully on my left side is still a no go; I think that's what happened last night.

Over the weekend I had to go to the GP.
My wound dressing sprung a leak in the shower and I once again had a water balloon attached to my side. Ffs.
Yeah, Sunday was not a good day.

The nurse I saw about the dressing was very incompetent. She started removing my steri strips. Uhhhhhh, NO thank you.

Steri strips are pieces of tape placed along the incision post-op, to hold it together as my sutures were dissolveable.
They are not to be removed; they fall off themself.

By the time I realised what she was doing, she'd taken 3 off. I got her to stop, and told her that I would like her to speak to my doctors at the orthopaedic ward before continuing with my wound redressing.

Went out to reception, spoke to the ortho ward, and then the nurse spoke to them.
She called me back in, and let's just say that she wasn't removing steri strips anymore. I asked her twice what they'd told her to do, but she avoided answering. One of those people who can't admit when they're wrong.

She didn't have the honeycomb dressing I had had, but put on another one that the ortho ward had approved.

The whole ordeal took over an hour.
I was completely exhausted after. I hadn't really been able to sit with my back fully supported the whole time (I had Trev, but no wall or tall chair back to rest against).
I thought I was going to vomit or pass out in the medical centre entrance area.

It took the rest of the day just to get back to my baseline.

Monday was a better day.
The sun was shining.
Without thinking, I went out to the garden.
Down the steps.
No issue.
Huh. Neat.

Since then, I've still been spending a lot of time in bed, and a lot of time eating.
I've also been working on my homework from my surgeon: spending a few minutes every day looking in the mirror and learning what standing straight with my new spine looks and feels like.

I normally set my posture, walk around for a while, and then come back to the mirror to see if I maintained the posture.
I can stand and walk with my back feeling (and looking) SO straight. It still feels so foreign. Like I'm taking etiquette classes or something.

Every day it gets a little easier, though.

 

[littleoc]

I got her to stop, and told her that I would like her to speak to my doctors at the orthopaedic ward before continuing with my wound redressing.

Good on you for sticking up for you and your body ?

 

[Deleted member 42984]

It ties in with the reason behind starting this thread; my absolute fear of my parents knowing about my mental illnesses which traces back to repeated invalidations of my emotions/my expressions of emotions throughout my childhood

I understand. I'm not too comfortable sharing everything about my condition with my parents either. They know about my anxiety tho. I mentioned PTSD once, but never the reasons behind it. My emotions were equally invalidated in childhood also, which makes telling them how I feel hard. Yet I try to be honest with them anyway, while not letting them know everything. There's a fine balance there!

 

[Teasel]

I love that you call it Trev ♡

Good for you for getting that nurse to speak to the hospital!

And I hope the pain vamooses pronto x

 

[bellbird]

Thank you :hug:
My pain is less today than it was yesterday. Which is a good thing.

Today I do have discomfort, but it feels like my body is healing. Like it doesn't feel bad per se.
Still, we breathe through it.

And... today is happy three weeks post-op to me! ? a long way to go, but very pleased to have come this far so far.

 

[Friday]

I thought I was going to vomit or pass out in the medical centre entrance area.

Word to the wise...

...I always forget it in the moment, because the more f*cked up I am the more I get the bit between my teeth about not showing weakness, but everyone except the janitorial staff prefers it that you DO show the symptoms you’re experiencing. Because that way they can adjust their treatment at best, or chart it at worst (to watch the patterns).

One of my fav docs (orthopedic surgeon) finally found an end run around “I’m fine” with me... every time I delay having an injury seen within a certain period of time, I owe him a bottle of decent scotch. :hilarious: I’ve had to pay up a few times, but it really does change my awareness of “Oh. I guess I might should have this looked at.” :shifty:

MY feeling has always been it’s when I can’t avoid showing the symptom that it’s “real”. But most people don’t force themselves home before passing out, or to the car before puking, etc. They just go for it. Right then and there. So protocols are in place for the majorty, rather than the “I can do this, I can do this, I can.... Nope. Good. At least I was in private.” crowd.

I’m not particularly keen on the whole “safety” thing, but it’s occured to me a few times that most people let ‘er rip in public, because other people are there to help them. (Or as my mom says, “You’re going to end up dead alone in a bathroom one of these days, because you’re too stubborn to tell anyone anything is wrong, much less show them, or let them help you!” ...I drive my mom a bit crazy). Meaning that it’s safer for them to show weakness in public because other people are there to help. Meanwhile, what’s saved my ass too many times to count IS not showing weakness, meanwhile the opposite has just made everything worse. Because, to me, that’s safwr. So I suck it up and pass out in private. Other people swoon into strong waitin arms. :rolleyes: Doctors nearly prefer that one. Knights in shining armor complexes aside... it lets them know the level of what’s going on.

 

[Chris-duck]

^^ I agree with @Friday both as a nurse and as a human who hides all hideable symptoms

 

[bellbird]

Knights in shining armor complexes aside... it lets them know the level of what’s going on.

I think what made that situation more complex was the fact that my mum was also in the waiting room (she drove me, but stayed in the waiting room while I saw the nurse). And since yawning around her/acknowledging that I'm tired to her (/any of my family) is 10 steps too far for me, acknowledging in her (general) presence that I felt like passing out/vomiting is at least 11 ?

In saying that, I'm also not the greatest at speaking up in non-"complex" settings, and it probably would have done me good to have spoken up to the nurse about how I was feeling physically, before we found ourselves in the waiting room and walking that fine line. So, point noted and will try to work on it, thanks :)

Or, in a memory that still makes me chuckle: must have been my first day in ICU, one of my lovely nurses saying to me "ok, we're going to make a rule: no more telling [nurse] 'I don't feel well' right before our blood pressure plummets and we almost pass out."
Oopsies :D :D :D

 

[bellbird]

I'm currently lying in the sun, on my bed. Resting.

I still need to spend quite a bit of time resting in bed, but each day I'm trying to lengthen the amount of time I spend up (sitting/standing/walking) between rests.

Sunny days like today help. Walking and feeling the grass of the lawn under my feet, the sun and a light breeze on my skin.
It's a long way from the hospital linoleum floors and still, conditioned air.


I caught myself this morning, looking down at my torso and tearing up.
Happy tears.
It still doesn't feel real. That I've made it through and am on the other side, or that I was brave and decisive enough to elect for the surgery to begin with.

My torso used to be significantly skewed to the left; my right hip much more pronounced than the other.
It now looks so even. So even.

I can't get over it.


My bowels are moving more naturally, but I'm still on kiwi crush (laxative) once a day. Want to wean off very slowly. No way I'm going back to where I was.


Being able to use my core again so support my back is a great help. Trev is rather chuffed, too. Learning each day what it feels like to stand "straight" and what the little adjustments in my shoulders, chest, back, core and hips feel like, that I need to make to make that happen.

I've also been working on my other piece of homework from my surgeon: getting my still-numb skin areas used to touch again.
I have a dressing on my wound, so I can't access the skin right around my scar, but my main numb patch is actually just off to the bottom of the scar, to the left of my belly button.

This morning I noticed --some-- feeling there, for the first time. Progress. Now let's hope it continues to improve.

 

[somerandomguy]

It will improve! Progress! You're going to get better and better every day!

 

[bellbird]

You're going to get better and better every day!

Thanks SRG!

--
Missing the presence of a certain stethoscope-wearing fine specimen of a human :sighs: what are Monday mornings for if not for swooning??!